


Blood and Cranberries

by cloveraphrodite



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: GSRP, God Swap Role Play, Graphic writing, Julian belongs to someone else, Other, Roleplay development - death number 3 (for JJ), Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of blood, Trigger warning: puking, might be confusing to you if you're not in the rp, trigger warning, trigger warning: blood, will add more warnings if you ask me to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-27 09:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15022025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloveraphrodite/pseuds/cloveraphrodite
Summary: Sometimes life throws a curve ball, bigger than the last ones you've ever experienced. Sometimes the curve never stops. Sometimes... the curve takes you all the way to death. Jason didn't expect that to happen, but what can he say.  He was a magnet for death





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To my friends in the gsrp: Forgive me for doing this, I lied to you about his death. And I was terrified you'd hate me for lying so harshly about it, making you think it was in August. A had a brilliant idea and I had to take it, it was so good. You already know he comes back, 2 weeks isn't too long....  
> To my other readers: GSRP is a pjo au rp server where we fuck up all the canon, then call everything we do canon because it's super different from the original series.  
> If you haven't read the tags before clicking/tapping, please go back and read them. Triggers are in this story, I don't want anyone to be hurt or surprised.
> 
> The Author Apologizes In Advance.

Jason was fine, until the blood became a little too obvious.

The party started out with a bang. He didn’t see his dad much, maybe Mars thought it was a good idea to not show his face. Or at least not be around Jason, seeing their history with each other. 

He remembered the nights pretty well. Day one was happy, he didn’t have to stress out, danced  around, stole a glass of Piper’s cranberry punch (it was worth it, even if she punched him for drinking the whole glass before she’s even tried it). 

Day two was mostly the same. Day three he was a little groggy and slow, probably from all the swimming, but otherwise pretty much the same.

Day four hit him like a ton of bricks… he wish that was literal.

“What the fuck…” He gently wiped up some blood trickling down from his nose. The bright red shocking against his paler fingers. 

It was nothing too serious, no pain or agitation. Maybe the air was just a little too dry, it was usual this time of year but it  _ was _ pretty dry for a late-june week. He quickly dabbed the nosebleed dry with a toilet tissue, careful not to reopen whatever source of the bleeding came from.

Today was the only real informal day of the whole party. June 28th, where everyone is dressed in sweatpants and wrinkled shirts. Except for Atë, who seemed keen on just wearing various types of pant suits and blouses. 

Jason’s was a cold reminder to his father about what he was: a pair of boy sweatpants with a plain white shirt, a trans pin, an IDGAF brooch, a pair of black and red nikes, and a simple silver knuckle duster. 

The day started without a hitch, and soon dusk was rolling around.

“Oh my god, Jason you’re bleeding.”

Jason snapped out of whatever daydream he was in to look at Piper.

“What?”

She pointed at his nose. “Did someone punch you?”

Jason touched his fingers to under his nose, and it came back red. 

“Well shit,” he grumbled, “it’s back.”

“What does that mean. JJ, what the hell.”

Jason shook his head.

“Is fine, just the dry air. I’m gonna go clean up.” He pressed a small kiss to her cheek. Piper rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her, towards the bathroom, 

Jason glided across the floor, waving hi to Hera, before disappearing into the gold and white marble marvel of the men’s bathroom. 

He went to a stall, ripping a couple sheets of tissue. Jason turned to leave for the mirror, before the moment turned sour, where his body dove into a pool of pain. He stumbled and pressed against the wall of the stall, hanging out of the open door. 

For a moment, his vision spun and laced itself with thin and plenty black branches. He coughed violently, holding his fist to his mouth. When his vision cleared, he was left staring at a red fist. Blood had dripped into the floor, but he couldn’t taste a thing. His mouth tingled with numbness. He stumbled out of the stall, for the mirror.

When Jason looked up, it looked like he got punched in the mouth. His nose was bleeding a little too heavy for his liking. His mouth dripped with red, soaking through his teeth. 

He spit into the sink, coughing harder than last him. His body started to shake, like something was inside of him.

Then it stopped. He leaned over the counter for a moment, breathing heavy. When Jason regained his bearings, he jumped straight into cleaning his hands, mouth, and the blood that had gotten onto his shirt. After working for a minute, he took his shirt off and stuffed it under the trash bag, out of sight but still where the trash is. Shaking nervously, he looked at himself. 

He… looked normal. Like nothing happened. His eyes were still a crystal clear vivid sky blue, his face still clear, his mouth clean of all blood. The decaying spine tattoo on his neck was sweat free. 

Jason figured he might not stay here, in case this happened again. He could image the horror and screams from people, the look on Piper’s face, on Julian’s, on Red’s… on Cee’s and Alex’s.

He could probably fix this if he went under the radar. Maybe miss the rest of the night.  

Without thinking, he left the bathroom, beelining for the door when he ran into Piper again.

“Hey Jas- oh my god…” She stopped, her eyes getting wide. “You can’t do that here, that’s not fair.”

Jason looked down at his chest, then back at Piper.

“It’s all good.”

Piper raised an eyebrow and bit her lip.

“I’m going to go take a smoke break.”

Her expression turned sour.

“Ew, I’ll throw out your pack, JJ.” 

Jason shook his head. “I’ll be right back, just let me have this one, okay? Then you can throw them out.”

Piper looked like she was mixed between kicking him (which probably wouldn’t end up really bad because she’s not really use to her prosthetic and he doesn’t know what’ll set off the pain) and pulling him onto the dance floor.

“Fine. Go take your smoke break. Just wash out your mouth afterwards. And get a damn shirt.”

Jason rolled his eyes and shuffled past Piper, going straight for the door. His vision started to spin again as he broke out into a sprint. 

He managed to collapse on the smoke bench, luckily no one was there, coughing even worse than before. His vision faded entirely, leaving him blind as he threw up and heaved. It felt like forever before he could see again, looking at what seemed like moist coffee grounds laying on the ground in front of him. 

He took a small, shaky, broken breath in, wiping his mouth. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. 

All his thoughts were jumbled, blurred out by pain and dizziness. He got to his feet, nearly collapsing. Like in a drunken autopilot, Jason found his way to his old hideaway in Cohort five. It hadn’t changed in 4 years, a small bed with binders still on it, a small fridge with glass bottles of water and some frozen unicorn horn powder. It was tucked away behind the bookshelf, down a small hall, halfway underground. It had a bathroom that worked, a tv, some books, an alarm clock that projected the time onto the wall, and a few more than enough weapons. He went here when he didn’t want to see people.

He collapsed on the bed, his body succumbing to the pain. 

Jason didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up again he was severely feverish. Covered in sweat and blood, his body couldn’t stop shaking.

He looked around, barely making out his phone’s light illuminating the dark room. His ears rang loudly, the tinnitus worse than it’s ever been. He gasped for air, like it was a luxury he couldn’t reach. 

The phone light turned off, leaving a bright yellow print in his vision for a solid minute. Then it lit up again.

Someone was calling him. Grunting in pain, he reached out, weakly grabbing his phone and nearly dropping it.

He pressed the green print on his vision, blind without the glasses he lost at the smoking area.

“Hello,” his voice was shattered and small.

“Jason?! Where are you?” Piper’s voice was sharp and yet muffled.

“I’m fine, I just-” Jason started coughing heavily, turning onto his side.

“No you’re not, you dick,” Piper sounded genuinely worried. “Where are you.”

Jason fell silent for a moment, his cough dying in his throat.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Jason-”

“Promise. Please. I don’t…. I don’t want people to know about this place.”

Piper seemed to hesitate.

“I promise.”

Between coughs, he told her how to get to his hideaway. When she hung up, his world went dark. His body twitched occasionally, his head and chest burning up. Jason felt like someone had stuck him through a meat grinder, he didn’t even know where the blood on his skin came from. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, again, but he was awaken by Piper shaking him dramatically.

“Oh my god-” Her voice faded into the ringing, but he knew she was talking. A pair of glasses were shoved on his face, providing something for him to focus on - her.

She was beautiful, she was already dressed up for the day. She looked like a theatre, dressed in deep mahogany and gold, the fringe on her dress swishing around lightly from her movements. Her lips were a dark red, like a glass of Merlot, her eyes shimmering softly in the warm light in the ceiling.

Piper frowned.

“Oh my god, you look like a sick lovesick puppy.”

“You’re like an angel.”

She tried to hide a smile.

“You look like shit.”

“That’s fair.”

Piper sat down next to him, kicking off her shoes. They thudded against the wall. 

“What happened?”

Jason started to tell her what happened, from the nose bleed to moments before he answered her call, nearly fainted when he coughed up blood onto the floor in the middle of story telling.

“So you don’t know what caused this?”

Her voice was weary, timid almost. 

Jason let out a small hum of agreement. She looked at her hands.

“Maybe I can fix it.”

Jason stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure if she was blaming herself for this, or if she trying to figure out how to make any of this better. It would be hard to do, he didn’t know what was happening through all the feverish heat and he also did ask her to not bring anyone into this.

“Water…” He croaked softly. Piper’s head snapped back at him.

“How much have you puked?”

Jason hummed a response in place of a shrug, and she eyed the fridge. Next thing he knew, cold glass was pressed to his lips and his throat was iced up by chilled water. He greedily drank as much as he could, surprised he didn’t gag or cough.

Piper’s hand shook softly as she draped cool wet towels over his forehead, chest, and arms, kissing his cheek and mumbling that she was going to sneak some things from the infirmary to him. 

The next wave of crippling pain hit while she wasn’t there. Somehow it was worse than ever before, so bad that he couldn’t physically move because his body seemed to shut down. The blood that came out of his mouth was thick and unnatural in colour, almost black but also the same purple you see on the skins of ripe eggplants. It stained the sheets, soaking into the dark grey fabric like it was air, leaving patches of black behind. His ears rang with the same strength of a jet engine, so loud he couldn’t focus on anything other than his pain to block it out. He puked again, a liquidy mess spilling to the floor, laced purple from the strange blood.

The pain subsided after what felt like a year, right before Piper came back. She noticed the black stains on the sheet, but didn’t say anything. Instead she walked over, tenderly holding open his mouth as she spooned bright blue medicine down his throat. 

He choked a little, not wanting to swallow, but he was forced to when she pinched his nose and clapped a hand over his mouth. 

Jason hated the mint taste, it felt like cold burning against his raw and stomach acid coated tongue. He hated laying on that bed, sweating a storm, afraid to move anything in case the pain comes back.

The waves became worse, Piper said they only lasted a few minutes at most, but it was like never ending torture. His lips turned red and chapped, his throat numb from all the mint medicine and throwing up.

The day was spent with feverish half-naps whenever he could, Piper muttering (mostly to herself) that everything will be okay and he’ll get better as she continuously changed out the wet towels.

Then a waved started, and this time it didn’t stop. It lasted the entire night, causing him to relocate to the bathroom, laying down next to the toilet, looking at himself through the floor to ceiling mirror.

His hair had blood clotted in it, only noticeable because he was wearing his natural blond. His blue eyes were bloodshot, his skin dry as sand and flaky whereever it wasn’t sweat-flooded. Bruises dotted his sickly pale skin, his lips blue and black. His tattoos were lined with yellow bruises, the inked-skin darker with the blood caught beneath it. Cuts littered his skin, some oozing pus, some oozing the unnatural purple blood, the others keeping true to red.

Jason knew he was going to die. Every time he tried to get up, he was shot down by pain. He could hear Piper’s sobs from time to time, even his tinnitus and hard-of-hearing couldn’t stop him from hearing it. 

Piper didn’t leave him for anything. Not food, not to see her dad, not to go to the party, not even to get dressed. Her dress was ruined, the beautiful fabric torn and stained. Her mascara was smeared, her lipstick gone, the bags under her eyes breaking through the concealer. She didn’t even sleep, that he was aware of.

She managed to get him to the bed and sit with him, holding his hand between hers.

“This isn’t fair.”

Jason looked at her through his smudged glasses. 

“I’m going to die.”

“I know,” he couldn’t hear her, he voice grew too soft, but he watched her lips. “I love you. I promised… and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail.” His voice was broken. 

They stayed silent for a moment, Piper looking at her hand on his, before Jason took a broken breath in.

“I release you from your oath.”

Her head snapped up.

“What! Jason-”

“Whatever happens next… happens next.” He stated. “It doesn’t matter where I go. I’ll be okay. It’s not something worth destroying you.”

“But-”

He used whatever strength he had to squeeze her hand.

“You did great. I love you so much.”

His eyes caught the fuzzy red number on the wall. The time and the date.

_ June 30, 2018 _

_ 11:56 _

His breath slowed down. Piper cupped his face in her hands.

“Please hold on. Please… You can’t leave.”

Jason’s mouth twitched at her touch. He was losing sight of her.

“Tell them… tell everyone how much I loved them,” He couldn’t focus on what or who he was talking about. “Promise me you’ll tell them.”

“I promise.”

He took a shallow breath, then he held it in. 

_ 11:58 _

He let out his last breath…

And woke up in a warm bed. A place he didn’t recognise, but felt like a home. He looked down at his body, all his tattoos gone and his clothes replaced by a soft green chiton. 

He scrambled out of bed, to the nearest window, and looked outside.

Jason’s breath died in his throat as he looked out and saw a shining bronze and black castle in the distance.

He was in Elysium. Jason let out a sob.

“I can… I can see them again.”

So he sat down. And he waited.

He waited for Cee and Red, for Julian to come and drown him in a hug. For Piper to run up and realise they were both safe. For Aria to join him.

“I can wait.”

He didn’t know for how long. 

But he would see them again. He promised.

 

* * *

 

**Pip** : I’m sorry

**Pip** : I couldn’t… I can’t do this

**Pip** : He didn’t deserve this, the gods should be ashamed

**Axel** : what in the fuck are you talking about

**Pip** : Jason Grace is dead

**\- Pip has left the chat -**

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


The gods were in chaos. 

A party, a domestic party, under strict rules and orders to  _ not  _ kill a demigod… and the Pontifex Maximus dies.

Hera was enraged. For a goddess who tried to be mild and temperament, she was far from her usual appearance and back to raging queen of ancient greece.

Jason’s body was brought to Olympus and given a traditional roman burial, with a feast decorated with his achievements in life.

Every god attended, but tensions were high.

Hera demanded a trial by court. Pluto stated no memories of a god killing him this time was revealed to him. But Hera pushed.

The investigation started July 2nd. The ballroom remained standing, Camp Jove instructed to avoid all contact with the place or face punishment.

For a week, they searched, until Hestia stumbled upon a potent and rare poison, matching the samples that came back from Jason. A dark purple, almost black, a corrosive and slow poison. Only a little bit would be enough to kill a man in a matter of days.

The gods were forced to go through intense interrogation. The Moirai themselves looked through the gods, every one of them, holding Jason’s uncut string of fate in their paper thing claws.

The results came back pointing the blame to Mars.

“He must be punished!” An enraged Hera demanded. Zeus didn’t look anyone in the eye. Mars glared at her.

“He deserved it.”

“You are wrong.” Athena interrupted. “He deserved none of what you gave him.”

“He turned against the gods!”

“Jason Grace promised the minor gods power,” Hestia’s voice shattered the conversation. “He took a job that no one has had the courage to take in over two thousand years. He turned against the titans and won in single hand combat against Koios. He fought the giants, he convinced minor gods to rejoin the gods with new hope. He was in charge of the construction of hundreds of temples, and took it upon himself to rebuild the cabins destroyed at camp. He deserved nothing you gave to him. You should, and will be, punished for your crimes.”

Mars fell silent. His face red with silent rage.

“I say we give him Jason’s punishment.” Apollo spoke up, glowering down at the roman war god.

The room went still.

No one expected Apollo to stand up for Jason. 

“I say we give him Jason’s punishment, strip him of his powers, and leave him there. For a year. I say he should suffer in the ways he made Jason suffer. Mars should take the burden he forced onto Jason.”

Hera looked around the room.

“Any… objections?”

Pluto raised his hands.

“This was a death against fate. Jason should be brought back to the mortal world. When his death comes, he shall return to his home in Elysium.”

Murmurs of agreement filled the room. 

“It… is settled.” Zeus brought a toy judge’s mallet down on the seat of his throne, and Mars was dragged to The Fields Of Punishment.

  
  


Jason woke up on a bench at camp, dazed and confused. A woman was looking down at him. She winked, then she was gone and revealed to him a familiar face with pink hair.

“... what the fuck.” Alex said.

Jason offered them a smile.

“Hi babe.”


	2. Pooled Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -

Julian’s dream started out pretty normal, until he was somewhere he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be.

The room was dark and slightly humid, almost cold without having a single chill. The only light available was blocked by a closed door, struggling to pool out onto the floor.

The door creaked open, Julian could barely make out a familiar face.

“... Piper?”

She didn’t respond to him, strutting towards him with her eyes trained on something over his shoulder.

“Piper, sto-”

She didn’t stop, then before he knew it she right in front of him, and she hadn’t stopped. He stiffened as her body passed through, like he wasn’t even there. The feeling was weird, like he was made of pure water.

“Jason, can you sit up.” Her voice was slightly hoarse, like she had been crying.

Julian spun on his heels, floating off the ground for a couple seconds, like the gravity around him was weaker than it was for everything else in the room.

Jason’s face wasn’t as bad as he remembered seeing it, back when he found out they were dead. But it definitely was still developing bruises, their eyes were bloodshot, nose bleeding. But they were alive, and breathing, even if it looked like they were struggling.

Julian’s breath latched itself in the middle of his throat.

But Jason  _ was _ dead, how were they laying on the bed, their face in the patch of light emitting from the door. 

A mirage floated past Julian’s vision, a small thin sheen of rippled water before settling down to clear vision.

This… was a dream. He never thought he’d be in a demigod dream. He was reliving the past.

“‘M fine, Pipsy.” Their voice dragged a little, tired and cracked. They sounded like pure misery, and Julian didn’t know his heart could break anymore than it already was. “Tired.”

“You should go to sleep.”

“But ‘en I can’t see you.”

Piper sat down on the bed, pulling out her phone. Jason watched her, then started to cough violently, turning their head to the side, away from Piper.

She stiffened and put her hand on their forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“‘M too ‘ot for you.”

Piper’s lips pulled at a smile. Julian flowed closer and noticed Piper was holding Jason’s phone. The screen was open to a private message between Jason and Julian, a message half typed out ‘Hey it’s piper, I’.

Jason hummed softly, then noticed the phone. “What’ha doin’?”

Piper hesitated.

“I’m texting Julian.”

“Why?”

“... I need to get you help-”

Jason flinched, their hand flicking. The phone sailed out of her hands and crashed hard against the wall, shattering on impact.

Julian mentally reminded himself that Jason had mild super strength, stronger than the average person but not as strong as Alex and the norse undead. 

“Why did you do that?!”

Jason looked pained, emotionally. Their eyes grew sad. 

“I can’t…”

Piper waited.

“You can’t what?”

Jason swallowed hard, and coughed.

“I can’t have ‘im see me like ‘his.”

“Jason you’re dying!”

“I know… but…” Jason seemed to look at Julian. “‘Is last words to me were ‘i love you’. ‘Is memory was me happy. I can’t ‘ave ‘is last memory of me be sad. Me like this, cove’ed in blood and sweat…” They coughed hard for a minute. Piper waited for them to stop, tensed up and almost looked like she was crying. 

“Jason-”

“I can’t do that to ‘im. ‘E can’t know.”

“Jason-”

“I know. It’s selfis’.” Jason’s voice started to fade away, like he was losing it. “But Jul’an can’t see me like ‘his. No one else can. I can’t… I can’t let them remember me like ‘his.”

“But what about me?”

Julian flinched at the pain in her voice.

“I love you, Piper… You don’t deserve ‘his either.”

“Then why did you tell me where you were.”

They hesitated. 

“Because you wouldn’t ‘ave gaven up ‘til you found me. You stubborn like that… and you being here… maybe it’ll give me the hope to see my 18th birth’ay alive.”

Piper choked back a sob. Julian’s world started to spin. 

“You’ll get to your 18th birthday. You have to.” Piper’s voice was the last thing he heard before waking up to crying.

**Author's Note:**

> Rest in Piece Jason B. Grace  
> July 1st, 2000 - December 20th, 2016  
> December 20th, 2016 - June 6th, 2017  
> July 6th, 2017 - July 1st, 2018  
> July 16th, 2018 - N/A  
> ....he's going to die again, he's mortal, but oh well


End file.
